Princess Next Door
by NeoNails
Summary: 1st in NEO storyline. Rogue has never liked Jean. But when she ends up having a latenight conversation with her proclaimed enemy, will Rogue still continue to hate Miss Perfect, or will things change? JeanRogue friendship, eventually.
1. Princess Next Door

**Disclaimer:** This is destined to be a waste of space on this web page, like the ads. ;) Anyhoo, I don't own X-men: Evolution, Warner Brothers and their creators do, along with the artists who created the _original_ X-men. I'm just here to amuse ya'll.

**IMPORTANT A/N:** An explanation of sorts, really. The lyrics you will see on this page are of one of my favorite songs, mainly because it strikes particularly true of _me_. To any girl out there who _doesn't_ agree with these lyrics- well, we know who you are. You're the one getting sung _about_. ;P The point is, all I'm asking is that, along with reading the story, you also read the lyrics. I know there are probably some out there who _already_ do that, but to the ones that don't, for this one time please do.

**Bold:** Thinking

_Italics:_ Lyrics

Don't make me tell you what regular font is. XD

Rated **T** for a reason. They're teenagers. They won't be saying 'darn' or 'gosh' any more, except to joke. ;P

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! (Also, no specific pairings, but there _is_ a lot of insinuation. Just a warning, too, but while there won't be any really nasty bashing going on, but Jean will _not_ be put in the happiest of lights. At first. But before you all run away, don't worry, I assure you, the opinions _will_ be changed. Well, for the most part. .')

$4$

Rogue Darkholme lay sprawled out on the Rec Room's plush black leather armchair. (1) And in her lap rested a ridiculously warm laptop she had 'borrowed' off of the youngest recruit, Jaime. Okay, so she really stole a little of Kitty's powers and phased through Jaime's room, picking up his computer on the way out.

She dangled her long legs off of the edge of the chair, which, instead of being typically clad in dark green tights, were now bare, along with her upper arms and hands. After all, why would she _need_ any cover when she knew she was the only one up? It was 1 A.M. for God's sake; nobody but her would be up at this ridiculous hour.

**You wouldn't need to be up this late if weren't such a God damned procrastinator,** her subconscious reminded her slyly. It _was_ true. She hadn't done a freakin' thing all weekend long, and now here she was, Sunday night (or Monday morning, depending on your point of view) cramming a 6-page essay into 4 hours. (2) If there was a God in this horribly off-centered world, she sure as hell hoped he could cram one last miracle in before packing it up for the day.

Just as she was about to start on page 3 (damn it all to God damn hell!), the door to the main entrance way ((1) again) creaked open, causing Rogue to jump so high she nearly fell off the couch, which would've meant an unfortunate end to poor Jaime's laptop. Gripping the arm of the couch so tightly, she probably left permanent marks on the leather, she craned her neck to see who had the audacity to actually sneak into the Mutant Manor at this time of night (or day, if you so preferred).

_Small town Homecoming Queen_

_She's the star in this scene_

_There's no way to deny she's lovely_

As Rogue's eyes focused on the figure, she heard a light giggle, which eliminated the chance of it being a guy, which shocked Rogue even more. What girl here would ever risk her tail on something as petty as staying out late on a Sunday night when she could easily do the exact same thing on Saturday _without_ getting much more serious repercussions? If this had been the Brotherhood, she could understand. Rules were _meant_ to be ignored for that reason and that reason only. But it wasn't. So what was up?

It wasn't until the door fully shut that Rogue's eyes finally adjusted to the sight she was seeing. **But, that's impossible-** She felt her eyes widen on the giggling figure as it all clicked. There,and dressed, instead of her mandatory Abercrombie and Fitch, but, instead, in a black leather mini and green sequin halter, complete with 3-inch heels with strings that wrapped all the way up her calves up to her knees, was Jean. Oh, but not some random Jean from her school, oh no, this was Yes-That's-My-Natural-Color (3), Miss Mutant of America, Princess Jean Grey, in all her red-haired glory.

"_Jean?_"

_Perfect skin, perfect hair_

_Perfumed hearts everywhere_

_Tell myself that inside she's ugly_

Jean- yes, that was right, _Jean_- straightened up, laughing no more, and squinted. "Who's there?" she mumbled with a slight slur. This couldn't be possible. Not only was Jean decked out in total party wear, including heels it seemed she could barely stand in, let alone _walk_ in, but it also seemed she was under the influence.

**Okay, I could see Jean wanting to party,** Rogue mentally rationalized, **but to not only party on a _Sunday_, until _1 A.M._, and come back _drunk_, well, that's just a little too out-of-the-realm-of-any-possibility for me.** Shaking her suspicions aside, Rogue set her computer down (_Jaime's_ computer) and slid off the couch, standing. "Jean,"Rogue began, not surprisingly, a little suspicious. "What are you doing? W-Why are you comin' back to the Manor at 1 _A.M._?"

Jean continued to squint, taking an unsteady step towards the younger girl. Only, as she did, her legs nearly gave out on her and she was forced to clutch the wall as her only means of support. Steadying herself and trying in vain to stay upright, she managed to choke out, "Rogue? You're not supposed to be up! It's 1 A.M.! The Professor will be mad at you!"

Rogue, not wanting to point out the irony Jean's concern, instead focused on why the redhead was speaking in a ridiculously loud whisper. "Jean-" she began, but Jean cut her off, putting a finger to her mouth and shushed her in what she guessed was supposed to be hushed, but really was quite loud. Jean laughed nearly knocking herself over, but Rogue caught her, wondering what the hell she had done to deserve this kind of torture.

_Maybe I'm just jealous, I can't help but hate her_

_Secretly I wonder if my boyfriend wants to date her_

"Oh, Rogue-y, have you seen Scott-y? _O-M-G_, I have met the _cutest_ girl for him to meet! Only, you _cannot_ tell him, because-" (4) Jean was unable to finish her line of reasoning, much to Rogue's pleasure, as her eyes turned roughly the size of saucers and her face, usually a lovely tan, turned instead to a sickly green. She gasped, clutching her mouth and spun, only to stick her head in the closest receptacle- one of Ororo's potted plants.

Rogue tried not to snort in disgust, but failed so instead busied herself in pulling all of Jeans long red hair so as not to get any puke on it. **What, so it's bad enough that she has to be prettier than me, smarter than me, and able to touch anyone she wants (not that she can really control any of that, really), but really? Do I _have_ to resort to pulling back Princess's hair just so she won't get any puke on it while she's yakking in one of Ro's plants?**

As soon as Rogue was sure Jean was done with her conversation with the vegetation, she walked Jean, leaning heavily on her shoulder, over to the companion piece of the leather chair, a black leather loveseat, and laid Jean down on it. She rolled her eyes as the older girl groaned and turned on her heel, flicking on the radio (the volume turned down so as to prevent anyone upstairs from hearing) as she passed.

"_She is the prom queen, I'm in the marching band_

_She is a cheerleader, I'm sitting in the stands_"

Rogue's lip upturned and she thought many impure things in the direction of the radio, which seemed to be amusing itself in mocking her. The irony of the situation was apparently too great for the idiot whose idea it was to think it up, as he or she, for some God-awful reason, just as Rogue reached over to shut the damned thing off, Jean shifted, murmuring, "Don't change it. I like this song."

Rogue rolled her eyes, sneering. "Oh, of _course_ you do."

"_She's gets the top bunk, while I'm sleeping on the floor,_

_She's Miss America_

_While I'm just the girl next door._"

Jean struggled to sit up, but when no help came, she settled for simply resting her head against the leather pillows the chair was made with. "Rogue, I know you don't like me much," Jean said, coughing a little, her voice still slurred from whatever drinks she had had earlier that night, "but I appreciate the fact that you're dealing with me right now while I am, err, otherwise occupied." She said this all pretty coherently, but by the time she was finished, her face was once again tinged with green.

Rogue, not wanting to get puke all over the new carpet (which they had recently installed after Roberto and Bobby got into an argument involving spray cheese, ketchup, and mayo(5)), jumped up, snatching the closest garbage can, practically throwing it at Jean just as the girl began to hurl. Rogue sighed and picked up the computer before sitting back down in the plush armchair. She added a sentence or two as she waited for Jean to finish her retching.

"_Senior class president, _

_She must be heaven sent_

_She never was the last one standing_"

Rogue rubbed the bridge of her nose tiredly as Jean finally stopped puking, only to retch seconds later. "How much did you eat? Ah mean, ain't'cha heaved all yet?" Jean swallowed, turning, alternatively, a pinky grey before stuffing her head back in the garbage can to throw up some more.

When she thought she was done, Jean picked her head up, pushing aside some of her long red hair as she did. "Well, if it's any consolation, I think I'm down to what I had for breakfast," she joked weakly. Rogue didn't smile, but stood up, setting down her computer (Jaime's computer, she kept forgetting) for the second time, and grabbed another garbage can, along with a box of tissues. She handed Jean the tissues and took the used can, replacing it with the clean one. Jean looked up at her. "Thank you," she murmured, wiping the sweat from her face and sitting up a little better.

"_A backseat debutante_

_Everything that you want_

_Never too harsh or too demanding_"

"But what _Ah_ wanna know is," Rogue said sensibly, plopping down into the chair and grabbing the laptop once more, "Where in the hell have you been, and what in the hell were you doin' in that getup?" She arched an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest, adding, as if to rationalize, "Ah mean, you're dressed like me if Ah could touch people. It ain't exactly similar to your normal clothin' choice." Jean smiled and blushed up to her roots.

"Well…" she broke eye contact, and giggled, showing she still was, if only slightly, under the influence of whatever the hell she had drunk tonight. "I-I met… someone." She smiled a little brighter, looking like the everyday Jean, if it wasn't for her slightly sweaty face, limp hair, and abnormal attire. And while the way Jean could still look just as pretty sweaty and in ridiculously tight clothes still greatly annoyed Rogue, she had to admit, she could understand where Jean was coming from. Any girl could.

Rogue smiled, trying not to get angry at the sick woman lying across from her, but still couldn't help but question aloud, "Fine, Ah can understand dressin' to impress when ya meet a cutie, but why on a Sunday night when you can easily go on a Saturday? Also, why get drunk when you _know_ Logan's been on our cases 'bout comin' here drunk ever since Amara had one too many Jello shots at that football playa's house?" (6)

"_Maybe I'll admit it_

_I'm a little bitter_

_Everybody loves her_

_But I just wanna hit her_"

Rogue tried hard not to smirk as the lyrics poured through the radio, but to no avail. Ironic as it was, the song rung true in more than one way. Jean smiled as well, understanding the evident humor. "As much as it may surprise you, Rogue," she said, shooting the younger woman a wise look before continuing on, "I do get what she's singing about, as unlikely as it seems. The guy I, um, met with tonight was dating a model before me. A model!"

She threw up her hands and laughed semi-hysterically, finishing, "I know you're probably thinking I'm horrible for bringing it up, because I'm sure you must think that the only type of woman who could be prettier than I would be, I dunno, a model, but it really isn't like that. I'm saying this because I'm trying to tell you that I _do_ understand how it's hard to compete with someone you think is prettier than you when you're already feeling like crap."

Once Jean finished her little tirade, Rogue narrowed her eyes. "Is that what you _really_ think, Jean?" She asked, standing up shakily. It didn't occur to her that now _she_ was now the one who could be considered semi-hysterical as she ranted on, "You think that the reason Ah dislahke you so much is 'cuz Ah think you're _prettier_ than me? Well, while you may have a point, that ain't just it, _sugah_. It's not that you just gotta be prettier than me, no, but ya also gotta be smarter, and stronger, and more popular, and _then _you've gotta act all buddy-buddy, lahke you really undahstand (understand) me. Well, _newsflash_, Princess, 'cuz ya don't. Ya can't. Ah bet that ta-nahte (tonight) was the first nahte that you evah even got drunk. So don't think of _evah_ condahscendin' (condescending) to converse with someone as _inferior_ as mahself."

"_She is the prom queen, I'm in the marching band_

_She is a cheerleader, I'm sitting in the stands_"

Jean sat up on her elbows, smiling slightly, and asked quietly, "Do you know your accent only becomes stronger when you're more enraged?" Rogue contemplated flinging Jean by her long, prefect red hair and into the Rec Room's 70" Plasma TV. Jean's smile faltered when she realized Rogue only grew angrier.

"Rogue, you know I'm just kidding, don't you?" She didn't wait for Rogue to respond, but went on to add, "Rogue, as much as you don't want to admit it, I understand you. You and I, we're not that different. We both want something we can't have and we can't do a damned thing about it." She held up a hand. "And yes, I am aware I just cursed. The point is, I get you. I do. You've just gotta let me in if you want to understand."

"_She gets the top bunk, while I'm sleeping on the floor,_

_She's Miss America_

_And I'm just the girl next door._"

Rogue's eyes narrowed to slits. "Oh yeah? An' what if Ah don't wanna '_undahstand_'?" She said sarcastically, using air quotes to prove her point, but really making her seem more frenzied. Jean noted Rogue's choice in clothing while she was standing. The brunette wore a large grey t-shirt that ended mid-thigh and reminded Jean of what she wore each night to sleep. What was even more surprising was that was _all_ Rogue was wearing, with the exception of a pair of white ankle socks. No tights or elbow-length gloves, no undershirts or long skirts. She was dressed… well, like, a girl her age _should_ dress. Relaxed, uncovered, _bare_.

"Rogue, it doesn't matter. Look at the way you're dressed. A tee and a pair of socks. That's it. That's all you should need to wear. But you can't, because your powers don't allow you to be open like the rest of us. That's why you cover your whole body but dress darkly. You can't be open, so you don't _let_ anyone open up to you. But whether you realize it or not, I'm like you. Only, I'm so busy trying to be everyone's best friend that I can't be anything _but_ perfect. Or open. I spend so much time acting like I care, and want the best for everyone that I lose sight of myself and lose the ability to be open because I'm too busy making everyone else feel happy. And cared for. And open."

"_I don't know why I'm feeling sorry for myself_

_Spending all my time wishing I was someone else_"

Futilely, Rogue tried to focus on the singer's wail, and block Jean's reasoning. _Was_ it possible that Miss Perfect was just like she was? But it couldn't be. Rogue was _nothing_ like Jean. Wasn't she?

"Awraght (Alright), let's jus' say, hypothetically, that ya gotta point and yer really lahke me. But why? Yer perfect, ya said it yerself. An' everybody loves you. So wha (why) can't ya jus' tell 'em ta leave ya alone, or jus' tell the Prof. 'bout yer problems?"

Jean looked her straight in the eye. "The same reason _you_ never tell Professor X about your 'problems'," she replied, mocking Rogue with the same air quotations with her fingers. "And you _can't_ tell people to back off or even _listen_, for that matter, because you're too busy pushing them away." Rogue opened her mouth to retort, only to find she couldn't think one up and promptly shut it.

"_She is the prom queen, I'm in the marching band_

_She is a cheerleader, I'm sitting in the stands_

_She's gets the top bunk, while I'm sitting on the floor_

_She's Miss America_

_And I'm just the girl next door._"

Glowering angrily, Rogue practically flung herself onto the couch next to Jean, who hastily pulled her legs up to prevent them from being crushed (accidentally or purposefully, Jean didn't want to know). She crossed her arms over her chest and grumbled incoherently. Finally, she threw her hands in the air exasperatedly and snapped, "Well, what'd they expect? Nobody ever _tries_ to undahstand me, 'cuz they think Ah'll push 'em away." She paused, mulling things over for a moment before exploding again, adding, "Not that Ah _wouldn't_ push them away, but still, the novelty's still there."

"_I get a little bit, she gets a little more_

_She's Miss America_

_I'm just the girl next door_"

"Rogue? Jean?"

Scott, Kitty, Ororo, and Logan all wandered in to the Rec Room, all looking equally tired and Logan especially looking pissed off. "What in the _hell_ are you two still up?" Logan snapped, glaring at them.

Jean giggled and Rogue threw her hands in the air once again and stood up. "Before any'a'ya (any of you) can blame this on me, _Ah_ was just workin' on mah- err, _the_ computer- when Jean came in an'-" Rogue stopped short, thinking about what she was about to say. "Err, umm, what Ah meant, was Jean came _down_ from her room an' we started talkin' an' before ya knew it, it's 1:30!"

Ororo looked at Rogue tiredly. "Child, it's not 1:30."

"It's… not?"

"It's _2_:30."

Jean and Rogue muttered apologies (well, Rogue muttered, Jean apologized _more_ than enough for the two of them), and just as they began their trek up the stairs, Scott grabbed Rogue's arm (the upper shoulder, wisely, as it was covered by her tee), pulling her aside. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise as she looked up at her leader's shaded eyes.

Scott seemed to be mulling something over in his head for a moment or two before finally leaning closer to Rogue, murmuring, "R-Rogue? Umm… Can-can you please just answer a quick question for me?" Rogue's eyes widen even more, nodding slightly, and stepped closer to him.

"Yes? What is it, Scott?"

"Can… You tell me, am I imagining things or is… Is Jean _really_ wearing that?"

"_Yeah, yeah, oh, I'm just the girl next door_

_She is the prom queen_

_Yeah, yeah, and I'm just the girl next door._"

It had been known, from that moment on, that that was the first thing to make Rogue laugh since Apocalypse, so hard, in fact, that she had to physically lean against Scott to prevent herself from falling over. It was also known, that after the hilarity was over, Rogue refused to speak to Scott for a month, and refused to tell him why, in particular, she ignored him every time he chose to spoke to her.

And, when he asked Jean (who, prior to the conversation, had been informed, by Rogue, of Scott's idiocy) to why she was so reluctant to even look his way, let alone _speak_ to him, she refused to give a straight answer, claiming only that he "deserved what he got" and he "should just suck it up" and "be a man".

Most muse that _that_ particular set of incidents was, in fact, the beginning of Mutant Manor's version of the "war of the sexes".

$4$

(1): Okay, I don't actually remember the way the X Manor was built and I was too lazy to actually look on Google© to see if a loon out there actually made up schematics of the cartoon's building, so I improvised. Same with later, when I mentioned the fact that Rogue can see from the Rec Room into the foyer and main entranceway. The way I see it, if you were to stand in the entranceway/foyer, the stairs to the X-men's rooms would be straight ahead, the hallway to the labs/Prof.'s office/etc. would be on the left directly next to the stairs (the right next to the stairs would be a dead end, I do remember that from the cartoon), the far left would be the room to the kitchen/dining hall(s), and in the far _right_ room would be the Recreation Room, or Rec Room. I hope I cleared things up enough. ;)

(2): Does anybody else have one of these due right now? Mine is 6 to _8_ pages, along with 10 1-page journal entries on the book we read to inspire us to write the essay, along with a PowerPoint© to clear up whatever thoughts of a relaxing Spring Break (which I'm on now as we speak ;P) we might have. But hey, I'm not complaining. XP

(3): I admit it, I did not think that up on my own. I remember that as one of the lines Tabitha said to, I _think_ Amara, in response to hearing Jean's name. Well, I figured, who better to think it than the girl who professes to hate Jean Grey the most?

(4): This was too funny for me to think up. I think, when Jean gets drunk, the mentality of the "good" Jean is lost and replaced with an "evil" psycho Kitty/Valley Girl 'tude. I dunno, I just found it hilarious to write.

(5): I'm not the only one with idiot brothers and cousins who typically partake in fighting with condiments? Probably not, but since I already had an example to give on what happened to the carpet (as the same fate fell to _our_ carpet), I put it in.

(6): Again, another example fuelled from someone I know. This time, it was my best friend's little sister with Jello shots at the star _soccer_ player's house. And she ruined their carpet, too, come to think of it.

I know, quite a few footnotes, but I had quite a few reasonings behind this kooky story. I don't know what kind of story you want to call it, there's almost no romance until a _bare_ taste of it at the very end, but I don't even think you can count it. There's no way you could ever consider this action or even adventure, as this all takes place in the Manor, and is basically some arguments and a couple of conversations. It ain't angst, 'cuz I have never, in my life, written an 'angst' fic, and it really isn't that funny (or at least _I_ think so), at least enough to put it under 'Humor', it's not a parody, or a poem, so I don't know where to put it.

Or right now, it will be under 'Humor' and 'Drama'. If someone has a better idea, please tell me, I'd really like to know. And while you're reviewing me to give me better ideas, you can tell me whether or not you liked my fic, and what I need to fix and what I need to keep the same. Thanks!

Oh, and, I'll be on vacation for a couple of days. I'll probably bring my laptop, but in case I don't or aren't able to check my e-mail, I won't be able to respond until about Friday. See you then.


	2. Ordinary

I know I intended this to be a one-shot, but… oh well. Anyway, this was partly created because I hadn't really cleared up some of the things that happened that night, and also because **ClaudiaR** (my new beta! Thank her for being able to put up with my erratic writing sense!) pointed out I didn't really show Ororo, or Logan, or even Kitty's, opinions to Rogue/Jean's clothes/Jean being drunk/the puke in the planter. Yeah, it was a high order, so I created this (short- yeah, right) extension. I hope you like it!

As before, bold words are **thoughts** and **telepathic conversations** and italics are _lyrics_.

Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention before, the song was by a group called Saving Jane and was, unsurprisingly, called "Girl Next Door". This next one is by the same band and of the same name as its chapter.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the X-men, yadda, yadda, yadda… Quit rubbing it in. Jerks.

$4$

As Ororo and Logan watched the children walk up the stairs, they heard Kitty's valley girl giggle and ask, "OhmyGod, Jean, like, what _are_ you wearing?"

After a moment of afterthought over Jean's… different attire, Logan sniffed the air and growled. Besides the suspicious smell of what he could only hope _wasn't_ alcohol, there was something else. Something… sour. "What _is_ that, Storm?"

She turned and eyed him, then, discreetly, sniffed the room herself. "There is a certain… odor about the room," Ororo finally agreed quietly.

Logan crossed the room, sniffing here and there before he stopped in front of one of Ororo's many fica trees. He leaned over and looked down, only to jerk back and shake his head. "What is it?" Ororo asked, walking up to her plant. She peeked in, only to draw back, covering her hand over her mouth. "Oh, heavens," she whispered. "And that was my favorite fica."

$4$

"Can you pass the moo-juice, umm, Rogue?" (1)

Rogue arched an eyebrow and shot an icy glance at Scott, whose innocent smile quickly dissipated. She said nothing, simply choosing to remain silent. His comment in regards to last night's run-in with an intoxicated, not to mention skimpily dressed, Jean still stung. Of _course _Scott was going to notice Jean. She was in a leather mini! Rogue had only fooled herself into believing Scott would ever notice _her_.

Still, that didn't stop her from keeping the fact that Jean had only dressed like that to catch some other guy's eye. After all, what would be the point of telling Scott? He'd only get hurt further. If Jean was interested in someone else, why keep leading the poor guy on? Rogue refused to be disgusted at Jean's antics, especially after their talk they had the previous night.

It was hard to take the high road when she had put so much effort into despising the prom queen, though. But Rogue was determined to see this new change of heart through, no matter what happened. She may not have been too pleased with particular events following her adjustment, but damned if she was going to give up now.

Professor X cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Rogue," he said, choosing his words carefully, so as not to upset the temperamental Goth. "I believe Scott asked to pass the, ahem, _milk_." Rogue said nothing, reaching across the table and handing the milk instead to Bobby, who was unlucky enough to sit next to Scott. The tension in the room was unbearable, and even worse for the two telepaths.

**Rogue?** Jean concentrated, a little confused of what was happening in the room. Why was Rogue angry at Scott? It was known fact Rogue still had a crush on their leader and undeniable Boy Scout, Scott Summers, so there was no reason for her to get mad. Unless something had happened last night, after Jean went to bed. Maybe Scott said something to anger Rogue? Or maybe he did something? No, that was too ridiculous. Scott saying something and accidentally angering someone was one thing; _doing_ something to anger someone was very different for the local do-gooder.

**What is it, Jean?** Rogue responded casually, getting up to wash her plate and put it in the dishwasher. She saw her reflection in glass of the large kitchen window and tried not to wince. Her make-up was dark and heavy, rotating between black and dark purples. Unable to bear the torture, Rogue excused herself quietly and sent a thought to Jean, knowing the telepath was listening to her thought pattern. **Ah'm fine, don't worry. There's no need to ask.**

Rogue opened the door to hers and Kitty's room and walked over to her tiny, portable radio. She turned it on and searched the stations for anything decent. Instead, she found the honeyed sounds of a guitar along with a soothing, and slightly familiar, voice.

"_City lights shine down on the place that I call home_

_Surrounded by a million but I feel like I'm alone_

_And I might be a nobody_

_But if I'm playing, would you listen?"_

She listened carefully, mentally recording the song to memory as she wandered around the room, picking up her books and bag, readying herself for the far more uncomfortable car ride to school that was sure to come. She knew she was getting angry for no good reason, but that just fueled her want to be difficult further. If she wasn't happy, no one would be.

"_If you would get to know me_

_Then maybe you would love me_

_I'm so ordinary_"

The last line struck Rogue, and she stopped short, staring at the radio in disbelief. **How did it- ?** She shook her head and continued on, grabbing what little she needed just so she could procrastinate further and listen to more of this hauntingly familiar song.

"_Dragging 'round an old guitar that I can't even play_

_I fade into your background like a piece of yesterday_"

How often had Rogue felt that same way? This was too freaky. "Rogue!" she heard Ororo call. "You're going to miss your ride!"

"Oh, joy," Rogue muttered sarcastically. "I might miss a fun-filled car ride with a guy who can't seem to open up his eyes and appreciate me. To think what a disaster _that_ might be."

She mustered up what little strength she had and flicked off the radio, preparing mentally for what barrage of rough questions and long silences that were sure to come in the next ten minutes or so. She turned on her heel and walked out of the room, hoping to God that things were going to begin to look up. She knew it was just a car ride to school, but the thought of spending minutes crammed in Scott's car with the aforementioned Scott, Jean, Kitty, and Kurt (plus the possibility of the X-newbies, too) was too uncomfortable for her to possibly imagine.

"_And I might be a nobody to you_

_But somewhere they're gonna listen"_

$4$

Somehow, Rogue had ended up in the front seat, squashed in between Scott and Jean. It reeked of Jean's doing, but she was too aggravated to care. All she wanted was to get in school, and get on with what little life she had.

_But if you would get to know me_

_Then maybe you would love me_

_I'm so ordinary_

But fate had much, much more in store for Rogue. As the car neared the intersection, the traffic light changed abruptly from green to yellow, and before Scott could scoot the car a little further, it changed once more to red. Rogue wasn't sure why, but she could swear someone was up there mocking her.

Even worse, after Scott slowed the car to a sinking stop, he turned halfway to face her. He paused and seemed to be mulling something over, before finally asking, "Rogue, what's going on here? What caused this sudden burst of antagonism towards me? No, offence, but I know you've never been too keen on Jean- sorry to bring you into this, Jean- so what, now that you two are friends again you've decided to take your frustrations out on me?"

She gaped openly at him, speechless. Never had she expected _Scott_ of all people to confront this head on. Ask him to start a fistfight with one of the Brotherhood members, he'd gladly do so (providing there were no innocent bystanders), but an argument dealing personally with one of his own teammates? That would be a breach of character.

"Ah don't know what yer talkin' about, Scott. Ah'm not angry because Ah feel the need to take any-" similar to the night before, Rogue raised her hands and used her fingers as air quotes-"'frustrations' out on anybody. Ah'm angry at ya 'cuz ya felt the need, no offence, to act lahke a dick." She arched her eyebrows and pointedly looked at him. Breaking contact momentarily, she added, "The laht's (light's) green."

Also similar to the previous night, Rogue's accent thickened as she became more and more frustrated.

Still, she watched, fascinated, as his jaw tightened and turned slowly to grip the steering wheel, knuckles alarmingly white, then begin to drive, increasing speed by the second. It wasn't until then that Rogue noticed a tiny vein pulsating disturbingly, located directly under his jaw.

They arrived at the school two minutes earlier than expected, and Scott slammed on the brakes abruptly. "Everyone, out," he ordered, his voice tight and absurdly calm. Although Rogue was intrigued by his peculiar behavior, she knew better than to disobey an order from their leader.

However, her curiosity did not stop her fear. She turned to leave along with Jean, Kitty, and Kurt, the latter two remaining totally silent after Scott's accusation. Before she could, however, an arm shot out, its hand gripping Rogue's wrist. Scott's arm and hand, to be precise. "Everyone," he added with that same cold voice, "but you." Rogue felt her entire body freeze. She looked up at Jean, who was already staring at the two, confused.

"Umm, Scott," Jean began, worry creeping into her voice. "What are you doing? You're going to, uh, miss homeroom if-"

Scott cut her off before she had a chance to finish. "I'm going to talk to Rogue and I don't care if I miss homeroom." He then proceeded to reach past Rogue and shut the car door. He locked the car doors, effectively trapping her with him.

**Rogue?** She was happy to remember that she still had Jean to talk to telepathically. **Should I leave you two alone or what?**

Rogue still trusted her leader, even though he still may have hadhis hand holding her wrist in a viselike grip. She had to think this through before she responded to Jean. Finally, she came up with a possible solution. She hoped Jean was listening as she thought, **He's right. You should probably go. Just… if there's any trouble, leave your telepathic "chanels" open just in case. Thanks.**

Without another word, Jean smiled, turned on her heel, and began to walk towards the school. Despite that, she still turned around every few steps to see if they were still there.

In fact, Scott didn't move until everyone was in the high school. In other words, her wrist was beginning to hurt like hell thanks to him. After they were the only ones remaining, Scott finally let go, only to start the car again and take off out of the school parking lot.

"Sc-scott? Why're we leaving the parkin' lot?"

He said nothing, only reaching past Rogue to turn on the car's radio.

"_And if you would let me know you_

_Maybe I could show you_

_Wouldn't we be something?"_

Internally, Rogue was in shock. This had been the exact same song she had been listening to on the radio before! But that was at least fifteen minutes ago. And yet, it was somehow playing once again. Now, either this was one humongous coincidence, or the Someone Up There was trying to tell her something.

Regardless, she chose to act as if there wasn't some weird conspiracy involving her, and focused on Scott. Now that he had confronted her, and she had responded back with her usual iciness, he _should have_ dropped it and left her to her brooding. But he hadn't. And that freaked her out more than anything.

"_Sad the way we always seem to pass by one another_

_Hiding, so afraid of the things we might discover"_

Finally, he parked at a local 7-11. He sighed, removing his red-tinted glasses, carefull to keep his eyes shut, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Rogue, I just don't understand, I really don't." He put his glasses back on and looked at her for the first time since their unscheduled drive.

"Why do you feel the need to push everyone away? We're not going to hurt you here, Rogue, I promise. _I'm_ not going to hurt you. So why do you have to hurt us?" She realized Scott was hurt. Her leader, their unbeatable force, was hurt, because of _her_. She had never felt more ashamed in her life.

Rogue blinked back what she suspected were tears, and turned her head so she wouldn't have to face him. She hadn't felt the need to cry in… God, _years_. And yet, a guy she had a hopeless schoolgirl crush was nearly reducing her to cry.

"_Caught up in a moment that only you can live in_

_You never know who's giving the air you might breathe in"_

And this damned song wasn't making her feel any better. She heard him sigh, deeper this time, and saw out of the corner of her eye him reach for the car keys. "We should probably get back to class, anyway."

Lowering her shields, if only for a moment, she lightly gripped his hand, stopping the movement. She turned her head and murmured, "How about a Slurpee first? My treat." Her lips upturned into a small, toothless smile. This was the closest he would probably ever get to an apology.

"_But if you would get to know me_

_Then maybe you would love me_

_I'm so ordinary"_

He paused, mulling it over. After what seemed like ages, but could have only been a few seconds, he replied, "I don't know, Rogue," her smile dropped, and adopted her angry-girl façade to put her through the rest of the day, "I don't think Principal Kelly would be too keen on us mutants skipping homeroom like _humans_."

Rogue stared, breaking out into a full grin. "Eh, I think he can handle it."

"_City lights shine down on the place that I call home_

_Surrounded by a million but I feel like I'm alone"_

Scott left the car, waiting for her to do the same. She smiled. "Why don't you go ahead? Ah'll be here- Ah just wanna hear the rest of this song." He smiled, trusting her, and walked into the 7-11. Her hand hovered over the keys as she waited for the song to end.

"_And I might be a nobody to you_

_But somewhere, they're gonna listen."_

She smiled. She didn't need to worry. She'd already found the people who would listen to her.

"Rogue?" Scott asked, poking his head out the door. "You coming in?" He grinned boyishly, but she could still see the lines of worry under that smile.

"_This is Smooth Jazz 101.5, and that was Saving Jane with their new hit, Ordinary. Now if that doesn't make me wanna break out the ole' Kleenex, I don't know what does."_

Rogue glanced at the radio and without a second thought, pulled out the car keys. "'Course, Scott," she replied, getting out of his car, "Do ya really think I'd skip out on you like that?" She smirked, pulling the door to the store open…

…Only to watch the Brotherhood of Mutants come out from one of the various aisles, Slurpees in hand. She eyed Scott concernedly. He looked an odd combination of pissed and joyful. She could only guess what that meant to the Brotherhood.

As Scott and Lance eyed each other, both ready for a fight, Rogue found herself smiling. Afterall, Rogue was a mutant. She battled bad guys and helped save the world each day. She had no need for Ordinary.

$4$

(1) Blame **_ClaudiaR_**. She reminded of that fateful "moo-juice" episode. While I remember it only vaguely, I figured putting the phrase in was the least I could do, considering how Claudia's putting up with me long enough to beta my work.

Do you know this is about 7½ pages long? That's about 4½ pages longer than I'd intended! So much for a quick 2-parter…

Again, a big thank you to **_ClaudiaR_**!


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